Song of Praise

Hey, can you smell it?

England’s summer rain,

A beautiful oxymoron,

Just like me, I suppose,

But I love it.

Unique, diamond skies;

High on love and blessings,

No drug is better

This summer night,

Eve of a new day,

Beautiful (although

Not literally; that's

Not a necessity

Of my heart).

Friends across the ages,

I'm grateful, God,

Never a greeting too many,

And turquoise eyes like mine.

Nature music, the people's music:

Both beautiful, extreme,

And hand-strung poetry

Lives inside me.

I see it all now

Your beauty fourfold,

Unfolding before my eyes;

So here I am,

This is my song of praise.

The End

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